


Jet Set

by DopeSolo



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:09:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DopeSolo/pseuds/DopeSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope hates flying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jet Set

**Author's Note:**

> A quick one-shot because I don't know where I'm going with my other fics as of this moment.

                "Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen. We will now accept boarding passes from those of you in Group One," the desk attendant spoke into a microphone at the ticketing gate. Immediately a swell of women flooded the desk area and took turns handing over the boarding pass to another attendant. Half of the girls were over-excited, others were dreading the eight hours of being cramped in a plane with strangers and their crying children.  
                Hope Solo, however, dreaded the flight for an altogether different reason. She hated flying. It was the least favorite aspect of her soccer career. Whether it was a short flight from Seattle to California, or California to Japan, any flight, in Hope's opinion, was awful. She stood near the back of the group of her teammates. She'd stay on solid ground as long as possible. She shifted from foot to foot, nerves getting the best of her. She'd take a PK from Marta any day over flying. Hope lifted her cup to her mouth and frowned when no coffee met her lips. She looked down at the cup. It's paper sleeve was in tatters. When did she even shred that? She shook her head.  
                A man coughed behind her and she glanced up. _Oh._ The attendants were waving her forward. Hope glanced behind her at the small line of travelers she had unknowingly held up. She walked up to the gate, handed her ticket with one hand to the employee who gave her a far too cheerful smile, and tossed her Starbucks cup into the small trashcan by the door.  
                Hope walked the short distance down the loading walkway and caught up to her teammates. Pinoe flashed her a grin. "Almost thought some of us would have to go back and drag you to the plane."  
                Most of the teammates in hearing distance let out a chorus of laughter. When you traveled with the same group of women, it was only a matter of time until your fear of flying was out on the table for everyone to see - and some, Hope glared at Megan - to mock.   
                Slowly, the team inched forward and headed to the rear of the plane. As seasoned travelers, the women worked in sync to stow their gear in overhead bins and ready their headphones and neck pillows in a matter of seconds. Hope wandered to her row and glanced at the seating chart on the ceiling. L-24. A window seat. She swallowed. _Great.  
                _ She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. A beaming smile and far too happy face of freckles greeted her. "Hi seat buddy!" Kelley exclaimed.   
                "Hey," Hope greeted and glanced behind Kelley. More passengers were now boarding the plane but no one was trying to make their way to the rear of the plane. Kelley held up her backpack and pointed to the bin. Oh. Right. Hope ducked into her seat and Kelley heaved her bag upwards. Hope glanced out the window. The wing's placement couldn't have been worse. It was too far away and would do nothing to block Hope's view of the Earth miles below. Or the engines should one of them catch on fire. Or if the entire wing decided to rip off. Or if-  
                Another round of laughter brought Hope out of her paranoia and she looked up to see Kelley now precariously balancing on the seat edge trying to shove her backpack into the compartment above Hope. Most people would attempt to help a shorter person out when it came to overhead bins and other vertically challenging obstacles like the top shelf at a grocery store. But when it came to the U.S. Women's National Soccer Team, you'd be lucky if the laughter didn't drown out the commentary of an Instagram Video courtesy of Sydney Leroux.  
                Hope couldn't help but let out a small grin as she watched Kelley fight the backpack. A quick look to the front of the plane revealed flight attendants far too busy assisting other passengers to bother helping Kelley. Hope sighed and moved toward the aisle. She looked at Kelley's face. Even while being made fun of the girl still had a wide smile. The defender's eyes dropped from the backpack to Hope. "Hey," Kelley greeted again.  
                "Need help?" Hope asked, one eyebrow quirked.  
                "Me? No way. I totally" Kelley grunted and made for another push, "Got it!" She yelped and almost fell backwards. Hope's arm shot out and steadied the shorter woman. Another wave of laughter sounded. This time, Hope gently pushed Kelley aside and grabbed the backpack from the younger woman. A round of boos sounded. Gone was the pre-flight entertainment. Hope easily maneuvered a few items in the bin and frowned at a small bag near the back that had caused the jam. She rolled her eyes and pulled it out. She turned to Sydney and held up the small bag. In a fancy, stylish type stitched near the opening was _Boss Leroux._   
                "Your dog has a carryon? Are you kidding me?" Hope asked.  
                Sydney lifted her nose and peeked to the small dog carrier under the seat. "Boss has needs too."   
                Hope rolled her eyes and tossed the small bag to Kristie. Being best friends with Sydney meant that things like this didn't faze her. She easily tossed the small bag under the seat in front of her and shrugged at Hope. Hope sighed and turned her attention back to the overhead compartment and this time, was able to store Kelley's bag. She closed the bin and was about to move back to her seat when Kelley tapped her on the shoulder again.  
                "Mind if I take the window?" Kelley asked.  
                "Go for it," Hope said and moved aside to let Kelley slide in to her spot. Good. Now she was that much farther away from the window. They both adjusted themselves and buckled up. Hope double checked her belt. Not that a small belt would keep her from dying if the plane was on fire, but it still offered some level of security.   
                Kelley glanced to Hope's bouncing leg. She took in the keeper's set jaw and crossed arms. Her gaze was straight forward, headphones around her neck and ready to be put on as soon as they were airborne.   
                Kelley gently nudged Hope. Hope turned her attention to the defender, a questioning look in her eyes. "Thanks for the help with my bag, Stretch."  
                Hope let out a small smile. "Someone's gotta look out for the little guys."  
                Kelley grinned and knocked her knee easily against Hope's jittery one. "You know that this fear of flying thing is something of a weird Twilight Zone thing, right?"  
                At Hope's clearly confused look, Kelley continued. "You're this, bad ass goalkeeper. You go up against shots that are fired _at your face_ while thousands of people watch and judge you and it's no big deal. I mean. The odds of being killed in a plane crash is something ridiculous like one in 25 million. You'd statistically get whacked by an asteroid hitting the earth before you would die in a plane crash. You're more likely to die in the tub than in a plane. Oh! And left-handed people die waaaaay more often by using right-handed products!"  
                Hope's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "I'm not left-handed."  
                Kelley's eyes, which had grown wider and wider as she was spewing out statistics finally blinked. "You're not?"  
                "No."  
                "What?"  
                "I'm not left-handed?" Hope asked more than answered.  
                "You... Yes you are. You write like a lefty! You hold your pen really weird and-" As if Kelley was revisiting a recent memory she tilted her head. She mock held a pen in her hand and cranked her right hand at a dramatic angle. "Huh. You're not left-handed." She shrugged. "Anyway. You're not going to die on this plane, or likely any other plane we take in the future."  
                "Famous last words," Hope mumbled and turned her attention to the flight attendants who began to demonstrate all of the safety rules and procedures. She hated this part of the flight almost as much as she hated flying. 

                The plane began to taxi down various paths to get to the main runway. Hope took a deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose and - the plane jolted as the whine of the engines grew to a roar. Hope felt her body push into the seat from the dramatic increase in speed. She gripped the armrest on each side in a white-knuckled grip.  
                She made the mistake of looking outside. Jesus the outside was passing by so quickly. She felt the plane lift off the ground and her stomach lurched. Her eyes locked on a building in the distance. The building was shrinking. Hope pursed her lips and swallowed hard.   
                A freckled hand cut into her view and lowered the small curtain, effectively cutting off the shrinking world. The other hand patted Hope's left hand a few times. It was cool to the touch. "Probably no use in telling you to relax, huh?" Kelley asked.  
                Hope shook her head and dropped her gaze to the small hand covering her own much larger hand. Kelley wiggled one finger between Hope's hand the arm rest. Her tongue peeked out from between her lips. Hope glanced from their hands to Kelley's far too concentrated face. Two fingers now wiggled under her hand.  
                "What're you doing?"  
                "Aside from scratching my nail polish off on this arm rest? I'm trying to get your hand off this thing."  
                "Why?"  
                "Why? Because you have two! Didn't your mother teach you to share?"  
                The plane gave another jolt and Hope's hand clamped down even tighter.   
                "Ow!" Kelley pulled her hand away and shook her digits.   
                Hope immediately grabbed Kelley's hand. "Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to. The plane, it just-" She stopped when she saw Kelley grin. "What?"  
                "Totally fine. Not only do I know tons of stats, I also am borderline Emmy-award winning with my acting skills." Before Hope could release her hand, Kelley instead maneuvered it to her own left hand and clasped Hope's fingers with her own, curling them in on each other. "But while I have you here we may as well have a thumb war."  
                Hope tried to tug her hand away to no avail. Kelley was relentless. Hope reasoned one game wouldn't hurt. The sooner she got it over with and won, the sooner she could have her arm rest back. In an instant, however, Kelley had pinned her thumb down with her own. "Ha! I won!" she let out her dorky laugh and fist pumped.  
                Hope glared. "Bullshit! You never started the game."  
                "The game is always going, Solo. Sorry you're a sore loser," Kelley replied and easily flung away Hope's hand.   
                Hope thrust her hand to the defender. "Best two out of three. With a countdown. Loser buys overpriced airplane cocktails."  
                Kelley grinned. "You're on." She grasped Hope's hand again and the two squared off as best they could given that they were still buckled in to their seats.  Kelley, even with her significantly smaller hand, was damn good at this game. Soon enough, two out of three became four out of seven, became eight out of fifteen, became -  
                A small ding sounded over the cabin and the captain announced that they had reached cruising altitude and passengers, while encouraged to remain in their seats, were free to move about the cabin as necessary. Attendants would be along shortly to serve beverages. Hope looked up from their grasped hands and looked about the cabin. Everyone was doing their own thing. No crying babies - yet. Everyone was absorbed in themselves and Hope wasn't even aware of their environment until just now. Her leg wasn't bouncing. The plane wasn't crashing. She turned to Kelley.  
                "You're good."  
                "At what?" Kelley asked all too innocently. She squeezed Hope's hand once more and gave the goalkeeper a wink. "I'll take a vodka soda, please."


End file.
